Loopholes
by onion.sun
Summary: Tom Riddle and Minerva McGonagall are forced to work together. The first wants nothing to do with her, the latter really wants to get her job done. A lot of chaos ensues. R&R
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Project

With a torn heart, Minerva McGonagall walked up to Tom Riddle who was standing at the front of the Potions class. She coughed briefly.

He didn't seem to notice her the first time. She coughed again.

'Riddle,' she began carefully.

He still kept packing his Potions supplies as if no one were talking to him. Behind him, Malfoy and Macnair were staring at her suspiciously.

'Riddle,' she tried again.

He finally condescended to look up. Minerva had an expectant look on her face.

'In case you did not hear, Professor Slughorn has assigned the Potions partners. We somehow got put together.'

'I did hear that,' he said smoothly, brushing off invisible dust from his uniform.

'I will do it myself, there is no need for your input,' he added briskly.

'You will do what yourself? The project?' she asked bewildered.

Riddle sighed impatiently.

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry, but I need to work on it too, I need the grade,' she said curtly.

'You will get an O,' he said indifferently.

'That's not how it goes. I don't want you doing _my_ work. I want to participate,' she replied haughtily.

'I'm afraid you can't,' he said, his voice bearing a finality hard to dismiss.

With that, he walked right past her, followed by Malfoy, Macnair, Black and other Slytherin.

Minerva scoffed annoyed. It was always the same with Tom Riddle. He never worked with anyone, he never talked with anyone, he never socialized with any other living being than the off-putting group of followers he had gathered around him.

He had his select society which he didn't like to leave, without any exceptions.

She couldn't blame him. They supplied him with everything he needed; fear and silent adoration.

He even had a loyal girlfriend; Malfalda Black.

They were all rich purebloods, ready to satisfy any possible whim Riddle might have. And he was their crowned king, despite the fact that he was definitely not rich or a pureblood for that matter.

Was there a better position at Hogwarts except for that of Headmaster?

Therefore, Minerva was not surprised.

Until now, she had managed to interact with him as little as possible, not only because people generally avoided him, but because she was certain he was a foul human being who was cruel and cared for no one but himself. If they had ever chanced to speak to each other, it had ended on an argument on her side and indifference or malice on his.

She wouldn't have minded continuing on the same strong note, only now they were entering their Sixth Year and she couldn't afford to endanger her academic achievements because of him.

So against better judgement, she decided she should persist in tackling Riddle about the project.

* * *

><p>'Let me guess,' her friend, Natalie Wood, said, sitting down next to her at the Gryffindor table, 'your talk to Riddle did not go well.'<p>

'That and there is no pudding today,' Minerva admitted, looking down at her plate morosely.

'Come off it, Min. You knew from the start he would be difficult.'

'Yes, but I can't just turn around and forget it this time. I have to do my work.'

'I know, I know, you need your grade.'

'It's not just that. He's willing to work for the both of us,' Minerva confessed.

Natalie rolled her eyes.

'Why, Min, what's the problem then? He said he'd do your part, your grade is safe!'

'Natalie! That is completely unfair and unethical! I can't let him do my work. Plus, it's Riddle we are talking about. I would never want to owe him anything.'

'I agree to the last part,' Natalie joked, smiling.

Minerva shook her head stubbornly.

'Listen,' her friend began carefully, 'I know you're very proud of your achievements, but maybe you should just let him do it. He won't let you approach him either way.'

'I can't let go of my pride, for one thing. And I can't let Riddle win this one too. My future in Potions rests on this. The project will take half a year. I can't not work for four months. Imagine the waste of knowledge.'

'I understand, Min, but Riddle wins every battle with _everyone_, not just you,' Natalie argued.

'That's not true. I'm sure if I persevere and I stand my ground he will eventually relent, at least enough to let me do my work. I mean it's _only_ a project.'

Natalie gave her a strange look.

'Minerva, you do know he almost got you killed in Fourth Year, right?'

'First off, it was Goyle who broke my arm and second, it was just a broken arm.'

'Yes, but he made Goyle do it because you dared to spite him,' Natalie argued.

'Well, Goyle only hit me with that Bludger during Quidditch and I survived,' Minerva countered.

'Might I remind you, you were in the crowd, not on the field!'

'I know, that was completely foul. But I got my revenge in Fifth Year.'

'You call giving him detentions revenge?'

'It's an elegant method for a Prefect,' she reasoned.

'Alright, nevermind Goyle, Riddle is your issue now. You don't want another fiasco like that again.'

'So what you're telling me is to just do nothing?'

'It hasn't hurt you until now, has it?' Natalie asked.

'No, Nat, I can't do it, not this time. It's _Potions_.'

Natalie rolled her eyes. Her friend did not know how to sort out her priorities at all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Many thanks to Helena for the review :) Please tell me what you think._

Chapter 2: One Hour

Determined to put her new resolutions into practice, the following Friday morning, Minerva sat down next to Tom Riddle during Potions. She was going to prove to him that she was very good at the subject and that she could be a valuable partner in the project.

The last person who had tried to sit next to Riddle had been Benjamin Levistine in Third Year. Safe to say, he was never happy to repeat the story of that foolish mistake.

The only time he allowed anyone to sit next to him was during a test, when either Malfoy or Black needed to copy from him.

The entire class was watching the imminent disaster unfolding before their eyes.

'McGonagall, no one sits here,' Riddle told her calmly as he saw her set her things beside him.

'Hello, Riddle,' she said, looking away. 'I know you won't do anything to me while we're in class, because you value Slughorn's opinion of you.'

Riddle raised an eyebrow.

'So let me just sit next to you for once,' she continued undeterred, 'and prove to you that I am more than capable to work with you on the project.'

Riddle was quiet for a moment. He was wondering why McGonagall had turned so daftly valiant all of a sudden.

'I admire your courage, but I am going to say no,' he finally spoke.

'And I am not going to take no for an answer, because this is important,' she said quickly, sitting down.

Riddle frowned incensed.

'And you will see I can be very helpful with the project,' she said, opening her books.

Riddle signalled Macnair in the back and the boy nodded briefly, assuring him through his expression he would take care that Minerva McGonagall never bothered him again.

'Now, I know we are not on very good terms, but I am going to ask you to share your pliers, I seem to have misplaced mine,' she said in a crisp, official tone, jotting down notes for the class assignment.

Riddle took out his wand lazily and pointed it at her tall frame.

'Imperio,' he cast inaudibly.

Minerva's feet started to melt slowly as she slipped out of her chair. She tried to keep her balance, steadying herself against the desk, but the force controlling her was too strong and she was going to cower.

She eventually fell down on the floor with a large thump. A large hand was pressing down her back, immobilizing her. When she looked up, she realized it was just the curse.

The class started sniggering. They thought Minerva had fallen like an idiot.

When she recovered her breath several minutes later, the young girl slowly raised herself on her feet and pressed her hands on her desk to keep herself up.

She sat down on the stool again and went right back to jotting down notes, as if nothing in the world had happened.

She knew that if she reacted in any way, Riddle would think he had already won.

The boy was a bit curious, despite himself. She showed no sign of having been cursed, she just went back to work without a single word of complaint.

'Pass the dragon skin, please,' she told him casually.

Riddle was too immersed working on his own potion and he signalled her to get it herself.

Minerva rose self-consciously and went to the end of the table to the small moving cupboard and took out a fist of dragon skin.

As she was in Riddle's immediate ear shot, she decided to say something after all.

'I would have thought you would have more sense than to throw an Unforgivable in the middle of class. You could go to Azkaban for that, you know.'

Riddle shrugged his shoulders.

'That is of no consequence to me.'

Minerva shook her head. She returned to her seat.

'You are not afraid of Azkaban? Some of the greatest men have lost their minds in there,' she continued.

'You will find it is an improvement for them,' he commented lackadaisically.

They remained in silence for a while.

'So, may I borrow your pliers?' she repeated her request from earlier.

He sighed and pushed them in front of her.

'Thank you, very considerate of you,' she replied briskly.

Riddle rolled his eyes in annoyance. Her obsequiousness was getting on his nerves.

'There, I think I am almost done with them,' she muttered after some minutes as she gathered the ingredients in front of the cauldron. She passed the pliers back to him.

He nodded noncommittally.

'So, how is your potion going?' she asked blandly.

'I would keep quiet, if I were in your place McGonagall,' he replied.

'There's nothing wrong with some dialogue. It breaks the monotony,' she said sourly.

'Don't worry, you won't find me so monotonous in the future,' he said, his voice tinged with a malicious threat.

'I wasn't saying _you_ are monotonous, you are generally unpleasant, but certainly not monotonous. However, the atmosphere can get too much sometimes without _some_ talking,' she argued.

Riddle could not believe his ears. Minerva McGonagall was trying to get into an argument with him, yet again. Had she forgotten Fourth Year?

'Do you have some death wish I don't know about, McGonagall?'

'Not that I am aware of,' she said, stirring her potion.

'You are trying my patience.'

'I am only trying to make a point.'

'Which is?' he drawled.

'That I can work with you effectively and that I am good at Potions,' she said.

'I cast an Imperio on you and you think you can work with me effectively?' he asked.

'That won't happen again,' Minerva said coldly. 'I won't allow it. I will be more careful.'

'Are you mental, McGonagall?'

'Not in the least.'

Riddle said nothing else and turned to his own potion.

When the time came for Professor Slughorn to inspect their work, Minerva smiled smugly when he praised her potion as one of the best in the class room.

Riddle's was however, the best.

But that did not damper Minerva's spirits.

'I think that by sitting next to you for a full hour and still managing to make an excellent potion is more than proof that I can handle myself on this project,' she said bravely, as they all got up and started packing.

'One hour. You think you can handle me after one hour,' Riddle repeated amused.

'Yes, I think I showed I can work well under pressure.'

'Don't make me laugh, McGonagall. I am only going to say this once, stay away and you won't have to suffer on account of your foolishness.'

Minerva frowned and folded her arms.

'You have not won yet,' she suddenly said. 'I can do it. You know I can.'

'You leave me no choice but to put you in your place,' he said, hovering over her darkly.

Minerva's sense of preservation told her to relent and accept defeat, especially since it was extremely unwise to continue upsetting him.

_But I want to learn, I want to work, I want to be his equal! _her mind yelled angrily.

'Thank you for the warning,' she finally replied, feeling the drops of sweat on her forehead.

Riddle was once again unnerved by her politeness.

He stormed past her, followed by his group of loyal minions. Macnair turned towards her before leaving and gave her a knowing look.

Minerva released a breath and collapsed on the stool again.

What had just happened exactly?

* * *

><p>'You've done it now, Minerva!' Natalie warned her as they walked towards the Gryffindor tower.<p>

'You couldn't keep your opinions to yourself, now you are going to have to worry about Riddle breathing down your back,' she continued, scolding her friend.

'I am not giving up, Natalie, I won't let it go so easily,' Minerva said firmly, although inside she was feeling quite the opposite.

'What? Are you barking mad, Min? Do you want to spend your last two years here in the Infirmary?'

'Oh, come off it,' Minerva said, wavering slightly.

'Just let it go. It is not worth it. None of it. You will only end up hurt.'

Minerva promised Natalie she would reconsider her options, but she was still feeling very strong about standing up to Riddle.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi everyone, sorry about this late update, my brain's been on summer mode for a while - not a good thing. Anyhow, I wanted to thank RGreymeadow, Infected, Jane, Sachita and Loserluigi for their thoughtful reviews, much appreciated! I'm glad everyone's liking both Tom and Minerva so far. Hope I can still please with this chapter._

_Let me know:)  
><em>

Chapter 3: The Swim

Natalie had been reading quietly by the fire for a while now. The Common Room was barely populated, since it was now well after ten o'clock and most Gryffindors liked to sleep well. She was an exception. Usually by now, she'd sit with Minerva and chatter away in between readings. They would laugh so hard they would wake up a couple of angry Third-Years and they'd laugh some more just to get them to bed again.

Tonight, Minerva was nowhere to be seen. Last time Natalie had talked to her, she was studying in the library. She figured it was Minerva's turn to patrol tonight, though she could have sworn it was tomorrow. Perhaps she was at an unscheduled Prefect meeting. Whatever it was, it was keeping her best-friend away and it did not bode well with her.

She waited for a couple of minutes longer before the Portrait swung open quietly and a small figure stepped in. Natalie heard the sound of water trickling down the floor.

She rose from the sofa.

A dripping-wet Minerva McGonagall limped more than walked towards the fireplace.

'Minnie!' Natalie yelled in fright.

'Not so loud please,' Minerva winced. 'My ears are still full of water.'

Natalie noticed she had tried to magically dry herself but she had only managed to do half of her body, namely from the waist down.

'What in Godric's name happened to you?'

Minerva sat down with a large thump and extended her hands towards the flames.

'Do you want the short answer or the twelve-inch essay?' she asked, smiling wryly.

'Both preferably, one after the other,' Natalie said, helping her dry up.

She conjured a towel and pulled it over her shoulders.

'Well, Macnair and Avery threw me in the lake,' Minerva said bluntly.

Natalie doubled up.

'Macnair and Avery...in the lake...' she mumbled, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Then it dawned on her.

'Riddle!'

Minerva nodded grimly.

'I told you, Min! I told you you'd get in trouble! Why did you have to go and be brave?'

'It was only a swim, Natalie,' Minerva said, trying to sound cheerful.

'Only a – well, Minerva McGonagall, don't tell me they just wanted you to have a swim?' she asked scandalized.

'I'd lower my voice if I were you and no, they didn't have that in mind exactly. They were going to let the lake creatures have some quality time with me.'

'Good Lord!'

'However, they didn't try to drown me, which they could have. They weren't aiming to kill me, or something as gruesome as that,' Minerva said, trying to sound nonchalant.

'Oh, they just thought you'd freeze and get captured by merfolk?' Natalie inquired annoyed.

'They didn't take my wand, so there's that. They just immobilised me and threw me in the lake. Well, the trip to the lake was equally unpleasant.'

Only then did Natalie notice the bruises on her friend's legs and arms.

'Safe to say, they...dropped me a couple of times.'

'Minerva, we are going to Dippet at once!'

'And what do you think he'll do? They've been doing this for as long as I can remember and except for a couple of detentions and warnings here and there, they won't get any sort of punishment. You yourself mocked me when I gave them detention last year.'

'Detentions sound lovely to me right now, if nothing else,' she said, feeling miserable.

'They'd only get angrier and cause more damage. Those detentions only keep them for two hours, at most.'

'Minerva, you can't tell me you'll take this sitting down!'

'No, I am a bit furious, you can imagine.'

'I can, actually!'

'With myself.'

'I – What?' Natalie asked disconcerted.

'Well, I was shamefully duped. I could have prevented the whole thing had I not had my head in the clouds when I left the library.'

'Oh, yes, you should always expect Slytherin's finest preparing a secret attack!'

'Well, I should have expected it. I did catch the look Riddle gave to Macnair yesterday. I just didn't expect the lake of all things.'

'I hate being right, Minnie, I really do. But you see, I am and always will be about Tom Riddle. You should have kept quiet and not put up a fight.'

Minerva pulled off the towel from her shoulders and stretched her legs in front of her, massaging her bruises.

'You're not right about this, Nat.'

Natalie slapped her forehead in irritation.

'Unbelievable! You're still trying to convince me otherwise?'

'No. It's just...it's been six years, Natalie. Six years of _this_. It's been a long time.'

'Yes and we've got two more years to go and then no more Mr. Riddle,' Natalie said, smiling encouragingly.

'Yes and then we'll meet another Mr. Riddle and we'll cower before him as well until at long last we are free, but by then we'll be history,' Minerva said sourly.

'There won't be another Mr. Riddle. Not like him. And we'll be older and wiser,' Natalie argued.

Minerva didn't seem convinced.

'I don't understand why this is such a big revelation to you all of a sudden,' Natalie continued. 'We've known this for a while. It took you six years to feel enraged about this?'

'No, I've always felt rage. Happily, too. At least, I've tried to fool myself I was happy. And I am sometimes. I am... happily enraged.'

'Then? Why not keep living with the rage, like we have all this time?'

'I don't know. Maybe I am being very stupid.'

'Yes?'

' This Potions project, it's a pretext I know, but I'm clinging to it as hard as I can. I don't want to give this up too. Not just because I love studying, not because I'm expected to be academic. It's a matter of principles too. It's about myself. I can't explain, or maybe I can, but you won't want to hear it. But I need to do this.'

Natalie sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

'I assume you thought this over.'

'While I was fishing for my wand in the lake,' she explained.

'I can't understand how you can be so nonchalant about this. Min, you could have died tonight.'

'I'm not and I am aware of that, but I didn't die and I wouldn't have, knowing me, and strangely enough, being here with you, it almost feels like it never happened,' Minerva said, smiling suddenly, as if a dream had crossed her mind.

'Oh, Min, stop it.'

'No, really. It's far away now. I can't even feel sad about it anymore,' Minerva said, laughing. Natalie could detect the pain in her laughter, though. It was small, but it was there.

'What are you going to do?'

'What my Nan always says I should when faced with an obstacle. Fight.'

* * *

><p>The following day was a Saturday. It was an unusually cold day outside even for autumn. Everyone was staying inside, trying to occupy their minds with homework or pleasure.<p>

The only students mad enough to go out were the Quidditch players. They had practice.

Natalie had gone to watch the Gryffindors. Minerva had teased her that all she wanted to do was sit and watch Charlus Potter prance around the field in his tight uniform. Natalie had defended herself by saying that everyone else was going for the same reason.

Minerva, on the other hand, wanted to begin working on her Potions assignment.

She left early for the library, making sure this time she would not be taken by surprise by any Slytherin. She would have a quick hex in mind the minute she saw a lingering shadow behind her.

The Slytherins weren't double strikers though and she knew that.

She sat quietly at her usual table and worked for two solid hours, gathering research and making necessary notes. Her table was placed right next to one of the tall windows and she could take a break from time to time and watch the dull sky or observe the green grounds. She would let her mind wander over the Forbidden Forest and the snowy mountain peaks while her ideas took shape.

It was during one of these breaks that she caught someone's reflection in the window.

She turned around quickly. Malfalda Black, the Slytherin beauty.

If she was here, it meant she was looking for Tom Riddle, because she never came here without him, if she could manage it. He was probably not too far himself.

She had to go search for two volumes on the proper uses of Manticore's blood anyway, so she might as well move around the library a bit and maybe catch a glance of the nefarious couple.

Little did she expect to find Tom Riddle himself at the appointed section of the needed volumes.

She stopped in her tracks. Malfalda was nowhere to be seen.

Riddle's eyes travelled from the shelves to her figure. She looked like a dark spot against the white windows.

Minerva knew it would be idiotic to turn around and leave when she needed those books. Not to mention it would be cowardly. Something that wasn't in her blood.

She walked up to him and looked up at the shelf where his hand had previously traced some book spines.

She noticed from the corner of her eye, he was staring at her. He didn't look pleased, but he didn't look upset either. Only curious. He was expecting something. A reaction of some sort.

Suddenly, she rolled her eyes.

'Of _course_ you are searching for the same books. We do work on the same project,' she drawled in exasperation. 'Only you have to be stubborn about it and do it all by yourself.'

Riddle almost flinched. Whatever he was expecting, it was not this. Her brash, almost reprimanding words stirred a certain cold anger in him.

'Honestly, it's just absurd. No one is trying to hurt you, or make you feel uncomfortable. I only want to take some of your workload. Which you have to admit, would be helpful. You are rejecting help, Riddle, _help_.'

He remained stoically quiet, though she could tell he was building up a rage.

She decided to say what she had in mind, anyway.

'Is it really _wise_ of a leader to reject help?'

A feeling of triumph washed over her body. She knew it was small and insignificant, but at least she had got the words out.

Riddle was simpering.

Eventually and surprisingly, his gaze travelled towards the books. He pulled them out of their shelf.

He put them under his arm.

'I don't know you very well, Minerva McGonagall,' he began carefully. 'But I _do_ know you've been trying my patience for a while now.'

'You are, by all looks, another practiced overachiever,' he continued, 'struggling for acknowledgement and achievements. You probably worry about every single grade you get. When I told you you'd get an O that wasn't enough for you, even though that was infinite kindness on my part. No, besides being a moron, you want to be an _ethical_ moron as well.'

Minerva was about to open her mouth, but he stepped forward and that seemed to stop her momentarily.

'I'll teach you something about ethics. They are very convenient. They tend to appear and disappear at the right moment. It's a natural preservation of our kind. We forget about them when needed. So, unless you want your body to rest at the bottom of the lake, I'd suggest you forget about them.'

During this little speech, Tom's eyes had carefully stabbed hers with repeated violent flashes. Minerva had to blink several times to push away the sensation of having something on her retina. It was a feeling of discomfort, like something was stuck there and it would hurt to pull it out.

Her courage was faltering. Riddle's words were a bit more terrifying than usual. In the back of her mind she knew his powers were limited, but it did not seem that way when he was in front of you.

But she recalled what he had said in the beginning. _I don't know you very well, Minerva McGonagall._

Obviously. That gave her some strength. She knew more about him, everyone did. He just liked dividing people into classes. He liked to consider them non-entities, disposables. He didn't know them at all.

Once again, not wise for a leader.

'Oh, are you talking about the swim I had last night?' she asked, keeping her voice light. 'Yes, that was quite something. I haven't had such a refreshing dive since last summer.'

Tom thought he had heard wrong. For a moment, he just blinked, trying to keep his face neutral. But a deep line started splitting his forehead in two.

'Refreshing, you say?'

'Well, I wouldn't have minded if it had been daylight, to be honest. But I'd never had a swim at night. It's true what they say, it is invigorating.'

By now, Tom wasn't trying to hide the fury anymore. It was written across his face. Still though, it was a passive fury. She figured he probably had it on most of the times when things didn't go perfectly.

'I'm glad then,' he retorted.

'Me too. When you're done with those two,' she said pointing at the books, 'you can find me at my table. You probably know it since you had Macnair and Avery watch over me. It was thoughtful of you. This way we can collaborate from afar. Things _do_ work out in the end.'

Tom was mildly impressed. He'd never seen anyone use politeness as a weapon with him. Not like this anyhow.

He was about to reply something in return, but someone coughed behind him.

'Am I interrupting something important?'

Malfalda Black stood before them in all her glorious elegance, trying to hide her curiosity.

'Nothing at all,' Tom replied.

'Yes, Riddle was only telling me he would lend me his books once he was done,' Minerva said, smiling innocently towards her.

'Oh?' she asked, slightly confused.

'He is being excessively kind today. Must be the weather,' she said, excusing herself as she passed between them as light as a feather.

Minerva walked back to her table, feeling both elated and dejected somehow. She would have wanted to be bolder, but so far, it was the best she could manage. She would go talk to the librarian. She was bound to have some saved copies.

Tom meanwhile, had walked back to his own table, followed promptly by Malfalda.

'I know that girl from somewhere,' she muttered wrinkling her nose.

'Potions partner,' Riddle said, throwing the books on the table.

Malfalda raised an eyebrow.

'Is something the matter?'

'You didn't hear?'

'I did. But she's a Gryffindor. She's basically vermin.'

Riddle thumbed his black-stoned ring. 'Vermin tend to develop a smell.'

'Do you want me to take care of her?'

'No. I can do that by myself,' he assured her, staring towards the other side of the library, where Minerva McGonagall was sure to be.


	4. Chapter 4

_I am horrible at updating, I know, don't shoot. Thanks for the review, **Nyahh**, I'm glad you like it so far:) Thanks to all the readers as well, please stop by and read the new chapter. And you can tell me what you think, too._

Chapter 4: Amateur

As it happens, she was right. The librarian had several more copies of the needed textbooks which she thrust upon her without a second glance. Minerva had a solid reputation around the library, so even sour Mrs. Kerling had little to reproach.

Minerva had been working on her notes for more than two hours now when she heard a commotion next to the library entrance.

She saw several people walk out to see what the noise was all about.

A Hufflepuff ran past her desk with the speed of lightning.

"Andrew! What is going on out there?" she asked.

"Didn't you hear? Charlus and Orion are fighting in the corridor outside!" he exclaimed happily, as if random acts of violence gave him pleasure.

"Potter and Black?" Minerva asked, getting up. "Is it serious?"

"Come and see!" he yelped impatiently, storming past her again.

As a Prefect, Minerva knew it was her duty to intervene. And she was madly curious too.

She found the two boys locked in a vice grip. Charlus was holding Orion by his collar, his wand in his other hand, while Black had his stuck between Potter's ribs.

Orion also sported a black eye.

"All right, what in Merlin's name is going on here?" Minerva asked, parting the crowd.

"This is a school, not a box ring!" she said impatiently, trying to disarm the two.

"Stay out of it, McGonagall!" Orion hissed. "This is between me and Potter."

"Oh, well, since you told me to, I'll let you two tear each other up," Minerva replied caustically.

Charlus momentarily looked up at her and, using this distraction, Minerva threw a Protego Shield between them, which unbalanced them both.

She was about to cast Expeliarmus, but Orion was quicker and hexed Potter across the corridor.

"Black, do you want to get expelled?" Minerva shouted angrily.

When she saw Charlus getting up with the intention of retaliating, she quickly positioned herself between the two.

"You'd better cool off, the both of you, or I'll hex you two into oblivion!" she shouted.

"Fighting violence with violence is hardly the solution, McGonagall," a smooth, faraway voice commented behind her.

Tom Riddle himself suddenly emerged from the small crowd, his wand casually raised only inches before him. Minerva noticed Malfalda Black right behind him. She was staring at her brother with a mixture of horror and disgust. She probably felt embarrassed he would stoop so low as to publicly fight a Gryffindor, Minerva thought bitterly.

"Of course, because you are such a pacifist, Riddle," she replied, rolling her eyes.

Tom ignored her and walked up to her without a care in the world.

"If you'll move out of my way, I will handle this," he told her placidly.

"I will not _move_ out of your way, we are _both_ Prefects, it is _our_ duty," Minerva spoke adamantly.

Riddle muttered something that sounded very much like "tedious" and almost immediately turned his attention to the two boys.

"Drop your wands, the both of you," he spoke coldly, staring at both with that red flash in his eyes again.

Charlus stood his ground, but Orion, who knew who was standing before him too well, wavered slightly.

"I said drop them, before _I_ join your fight," Riddle repeated, menace dripping out of his voice.

For a couple of moments it seemed as if they wouldn't relent, however, they did. Apparently, the notion of Riddle duelling them was enough to make them swallow their pride.

Orion was first and Charlus followed quickly, the two stepping away from each other.

"Now, we are all going to go see Dippet, shall we?" Tom asked serenely.

"I'll take Charlus, you take Orion," Minerva quickly intervened, trying to re-establish her position as a Prefect.

Riddle didn't seem to mind this arrangement, as he took hold of Orion's arm.

"Come on, Potter..." Minerva beckoned him, feeling very sour about this whole affair.

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, Minerva and Tom were climbing down the hidden stairway out of Dippet's office.<p>

They had been dismissed by the Headmaster promptly, because he wanted to discuss matters of punishment privately, especially since Potter and Black both belonged to very powerful Pureblood families.

"The idiots. Fighting over Quidditch practice," she muttered to no one in particular.

"I've heard stupider reasons," Riddle commented wryly.

"I bet you have..." Minerva trailed off.

"Like Potions assignments," he continued, ignoring her. "Wouldn't that be a sad thing to fight over?"

Minerva stopped and stared at him.

"Don't compare Potions to Quidditch," she replied, trying to avoid his allusion.

"Wouldn't it be sad though for someone so young and naive to suffer on account of trivial school work?" he asked, his tone acquiring that silky, palpable edge.

"If you are trying to dissuade me from working with you on the project, Riddle, that boat has already sailed. I heard your threats in the library, no need to reinforce them now. I think I made it clear I would keep at it," she replied curtly.

Tom shook his head in disbelief.

"I was offering you a way out, but you shut that door in my face, didn't you? I do not want to waste my time on you, even though you _do_ need silencing up. But you are making it impossible," he said flatly, as if the matter was beginning to bore him.

It was all surface though. Inside he was slowly boiling. He was not one to forget her insolent behaviour in the library.

Minerva tried to look taller than she was when she looked him in the eye.

"Good. It means I am doing _something_ right. I would stay and chat some more about our assignment, but I have to go work on it. I'll see you in Potions," she said in a casual tone.

She turned the corner quickly without looking back and ran more than walked towards the library.

Tom stared after her with a particular gleam in his eyes.

* * *

><p>When she reached the library, she was happy to see the crowd had dispersed and only a few curious Hufflepuffs had remained, in the hopes that something equally entertaining would happen.<p>

Minerva's appearance solved that.

Andrew rushed after her.

"So, how was it? Did they try to attack each other on the way? Did Dippet expel them?"

Minerva walked in large strides towards her table, trying to ignore him.

"Nothing spectacular happened, Andrew. I don't even know what Dippet will do."

Minerva stopped shortly in front of her table. The familiar textbooks were lying open at the pages she had left them at, but a curious pile of books was placed in another corner.

She looked at the first titles. The same textbooks. The ones she had initially looked for.

She frowned, puzzled and concerned.

Had Riddle brought them to her? Or had someone else?

_He's just messing with you,_ she thought, shaking her head. _They're probably cursed._

"What are you staring at?" Andrew asked in curiosity.

He casually ran his fingers over the pile.

"Andrew don't – "

_Bang!_

He instantly fell backwards on the floor, flailing his arms in the air like a helpless toddler.

"Owwwww! My hands are burning! Bloody hell!" he yelled in pain.

Minerva whispered a _Finite Incantatem _on the textbooks and quickly knelt down to heal Andrew's blisters.

_What an amateur,_ she thought, annoyed.


End file.
